


Drown Out All the Noise

by twyly56



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amara and Chuck Shurley Make Up, Cage Trauma, Concerned Dean Winchester, Dreams, Dreamsharing, Episode: s11e10 The Devil in the Details, Gen, Helpful Lucifer (Supernatural), Loneliness, Lucifer Possessing Sam Winchester, Lucifer's Cage, Platonic Relationships, Protective Lucifer (Supernatural), Sam Winchester in Lucifer's Cage, Samifer - Freeform, Sick Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-26 13:38:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15002024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twyly56/pseuds/twyly56
Summary: Sam does say yes to Lucifer at the Cage.





	1. Yes

Fire flared up around the base of the Cage, lighting up the dark, dark floor. From the deepest part still cloaked in darkness, a pair of startlingly blood red eyes glowed, the face they belonged to indistinguishable. Sam winced at the brightness of the fire, turning his face away slightly. The demon and his witch mother were staring intently into the Cage. A soft sigh caused his ears to prick, and he shrank behind a pillar, heart thudding loud in his ribcage. 

"My old friend Crowley," a familiar silky voice drawled,. The sound of flesh touching rough bars echoed even through the hiss and crackle of the fire. 

"A miraculite, carrying your torch," said demon replied. 

"You're too kind... to yourself. What do you want of me?" 

Crowley shot him a look, and Sam inhaled shakily, stepping into the light. A soft expression spread over the Devil's borrowed face, his false blue grey eyes lighting up with a quiet sort of joy. Sam swallowed, fingers picking at frayed sleeves.

"Sam Winchester. My little roomie. Hug it out?" Lucifer's voice sounded so hopeful that he almost believed him. An uneasy shiver traveled up his spine.

Lucifer tilted his head and dragged his hand over a bar, humming lightly. 

"Well, got to say, I am sort of in the dark about this meeting." He smiled at Sam. "Am I up for parole? Time off for bad behavior?" Lucifer looked down at his feet. "I don't really get visitors."

"If it weren't for the crisis topside, you wouldn't be getting one now," Sam said. Lucifer frowned, a look of genuine puzzlement crossing his face.

"Crisis?"

"You're aware of the Darkness?" Lucifer sucked in a sharp breath and winced.

"Yikes. That - that doesn't sound good. I mean, I know what she was, but that was eons ago," he said. 

"She's been released. She's somewhere... or everywhere... on Earth," Sam continued. 

"Hmm." Lucifer tapped his fingers on the bars. "However did that happen?"

Sam swallowed and avoided his eyes. He nodded, regaining his composure. 

"Point is, she poses a threat to all that exists. Including you."

"Hmm. That leads me to my next question. Where is... the Big Burrito? Where is God?" Lucifer turned away and made a cross over his chest. 

"All current indications of His presence show that... there are no current indications of His presence," Sam admitted with reluctance. Lucifer gasped in mock surprise. 

"What! Caught the Fun Bus out of town?" The Devil tsked. "Figures."

"But... recently, He has reached out to... an interested party," Sam said. Lucifer tilted his head.

"Who?" he asked. 

"Me." 

"You?" Lucifer repeated. 

"He answered my prayers." 

"Did He now? And what was Dad's suggestion?" Lucifer inquired. He took a deep breath. 

"To seek out you," Sam said. 

"Really? No way. Get out of town!" Lucifer shook his head and laughed incredulously. He became serious in the next instant. "I get why you came to me. Can't ignore God, right? God says jump, and everybody asks how high." Lucifer took a moment to snort derisively. "God is a master strategist. That's why you're here."

"Why?" Sam asked. 

"God needs me to put the cat back in the bag. Can't do it by Himself. Seen that movie."

"And?" Sam pressed. 

"I need a ride out of here. I mean-" He gestured at himself. "-I look swell in here and everything, but I'd be so much smoke topside."

Sam uncrossed his arms and exhaled shakily as realization hit him like a sack of bricks. 

"You want a vessel," he breathed. Lucifer's eyes flickered deep bloody crimson for a split second. 

"One who's strong enough to hold me. Handy. And available now," Lucifer purred with a wink.

Sam's heart seemed to skip a beat in his chest as memories of a past possession flashed behind his eyes. The wholeness of it. The feeling of  _right._ Of finally  _belonging._

_'Two halves made whole,'_ a voice whispered in his mind. 

"Catch my drift?" Lucifer said. 

_Shivering in the darkness of the Cage, clinging together like he would die without the other. The only source of warmth a fallen angel's wings. Whispered Enochian spilling into his ear like honey._

Sam shook himself mentally. Don't think about that. 

"What makes you think I would agree to something like that?" Lucifer shrugged, lips tugging up in an innocent smile. "So what? I just disappear while you - you take my body and get set loose on the world again?" Sam scoffed. Lucifer leaned forward.

"I know. I know, Sam. It's a lot to ask. Look, I'm not a fan of the Big Guy, but desperate times call for desperate measures."

"That's not desperate! That's certifiable!" Sam retorted. 

"Okay. Hold on there, cowboy. Take a breath. Here I am, ready to pitch in. Why do you think God sent you to me? To get my help. Which I only now just offered." Lucifer gripped the bars in front of him. "Sam. Your visions were the word of God. You can't say no to that." 

Sam felt like the floor was falling out from under him. Could he really handle being possessed again? For an indefinite period of time? A soft click of teeth jostled him out of his thoughts. 

"So... have you thought about it, Sam? Do I have an invitation to look forward to?" 

Sam looked around, double checking Crowley and Rowena were out of hearing range. He looked back at Lucifer's expectant face. 

"Yes." 

Lucifer leaned forward, blood red eyes blazing with intensity. 

"Hmm? Could you repeat that, Sam?" Sam stepped closer to the flames, the heat from them sending a sweat soaked shiver up his body. 

" _Yes._ " 

"Excellent," the Devil said. 

The flames died abruptly, and Sam blinked in shock. A snap had him pinned against the bars. From the inside. Lucifer cupped his cheek and smiled serenely, which did exactly nothing to soothe his nerves. Sam's vision filled with white, white light, ice flooding his every sense to the brim. The world faded, and nothing mattered anymore. 


	2. Your Brother's in Hell, Dean

_Ring._

_Rrriiinng._

_Rrrrrrrriiiiiiiinnnnng!_

Dean flipped open his phone and hit the answer button, huffing in irritation. 

"What, Crowley? I'm sort of in the middle of something here," he growled. 

"Well, I thought you might want to know that Moose left already," the Scottish accented voice said. Dean frowned. 

"What? Left where?" Dean asked. 

"There's been a bit of a hiccup. Your brother's in Hell." Dean crushed the paper cup in his hand, sending boiling hot coffee over his hand and the ground. He didn't even feel it.

"WHAT!? Crowley. Explain. Now," he hissed. The demon's heavy sigh drifted over the phone line. 

"He's chatting with Lucifer right now, so if you want to join us..." 

"You son of a b*tch!" 

"Missed you, too, darling," Crowley said. Dean growled. 

 

Dean descended the stairs, his path lit by torches mounted on the medieval looking walls and his ears rang with the screams of tortured souls. He glared as his eyes landed on Crowley. He stormed over to him.

"Welcome to Hell," the demon greeted.

"Where is Sam?" Dean demanded. 

"Don't worry about Sam," Crowley replied smoothly. 

"Oh, I'm sorry. Have you met me?" 

"I mean, Lucifer needs the Moose. He's not going to kill him. Probably. You versus the Devil? Trust me. There's easier ways of committing suicide," Crowley said. "Besides, we need to focus on Rowena." 

"Great. Let's kill her." Crowley tsked. 

"Easier said than done, I'm afraid. And we need Mother to slam the Devil back in his hole."

"Well, is she gonna play ball?" Dean asked. 

"She doesn't have a choice," Crowley said. The demon opened up the black box in his arms and revealed a metal contraption that vaguely resembled a collar with dark spikes jutting inward where the person's neck supposedly went. "This little beauty is a witch catcher. Most of them were destroyed after the Inquisition, but Billie came through."

"Yeah, she's a real peach," Dean muttered. "What's it do?"

"Oh, you're going to love this." 

 

"Hello, Mother," Crowley said. 

"Hello, Fergus. How is Dean?" Rowena asked, sipping daintily at her tea. The demon visibly spluttered. 

"What?"

"A little tip, love. Next time you go about making secret plans, check your pockets." 

Crowley dug in his jacket pocket and pulled out a little ball of cloth. He sighed, tossing it onto the table. 

"You heard," he said.

"Everything."

Dean walked out from behind the wall divider and entered the room. Rowena looked up at him with a smirk. 

"Not that it matters," Dean said. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"What does that mean, big boy?" Rowena asked. 

"A little tip, Mother. Never accept a cup of tea from someone who loathes you," Crowley said. 

Rowena looked puzzled, glancing between the two men. She started choking and coughing. The tea cup fell from her lax fingers as she doubled over, hacking. Dean stepped forward and clamped the witch catcher around her neck, the clasp clicking shut and becoming seamless. She gasped, clawing at her throat breathlessly. Rowena lunged at her son, hissing. 

"Get this bloody thing off me!" Rowena shrieked. 

"Well, I would, but this 'bloody thing' makes you my slave," Crowley said. 

"Oh, pfft." 

"Now, Mother, hop on one foot," the demon commanded. She scoffed, shaking her head. 

"Oh, _please,_  Fergus. I don't know what kind of pitiful 'Fifty Shades' you think you're playing if you think for one second-"

Rowena cut off with a tiny gasp as she started hopping up and down. She clutched at the witch catcher. 

"Bollocks," she spat. Dean leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. 

"Alright. Let's do this," he said. 

 

Lucifer flexed his fingers and opened his eyes. They flashed bloody crimson before fading into Sam's familiar hazel. Oh, this was nice. Very, very nice. He cracked his neck and sighed contentedly. Lucifer snapped, a sharp sound in the now silent area. He appeared on the ground outside the Cage construct, and his eyes flicked, surveying the area. He chuckled and shook his head. He couldn't believe that they honestly left Sam completely alone with him. Not that he was going to hurt his vessel, but still. Stupid move. 

He turned and started walking up the cobbled path, tucking away his Grace tight and compressed inside. Lucifer hummed, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans and strode up the path. He was definitely getting Sam some new clothes. Plaid and flannel wasn't really his thing. Lucifer stepped up the stone steps and listened to his footsteps echo on the granite. 

 _"Heaven must be missin' an angel. Missin' one angel, child. 'Cause you're here with me right now. Your love is heavenly, baby. Heavenly to me, baby,"_ he sang softly. His folded Grace cradled Sam's soul all snug and gentle in his core. He resisted the urge to purr in satisfaction. 

_"Your kiss, filled with tenderness. I want all I can get. Of your sexiness. Showers, your love comes in showers. And every hour on the hour. You let me feel your loving power._

_There's a rainbow over my shoulder. When you came, my cup runneth over. You gave me your heavenly love. And if one night you hear crying from above._

_It's 'cause Heaven must be missin' an angel. Missin' one angel, child. 'Cause you're here with me right now. Your love is heavenly, baby. Heavenly to me, baby._

_Ooh, Heaven (heaven). Ooh, Heaven (heaven). Ooh, Heaven (heaven). Heaven (heaven)..."_


	3. What You Don't Know Won't Kill You

Rowena glared at her son and the bloody hunter hovering behind her. She  _hated_ being controlled. She  _hated_ the way the witch catcher tore into the skin on her neck and nearly cut off her air supply. She  _hated_ how it forced her to do exactly what they wanted, just like a good little girl. She  _hated it._ Rowena furiously chopped up more sage and tossed it in the metal bowl in the center of the table. 

She turned out their incessant mutterings as her thoughts drifted to her Lord. Those red eyes that just drew you in and never let go. The sheer power that rolled off him even through the bindings of the Cage. What an honor it was to serve him. She only hoped that he had gotten enough time to get out of the construct before she locked up the warding again. With this bloody thing around her neck, she couldn't extend the deadline any. 

Rowena looked up when a loud crash sounded in the room. A trenchcoated figure stumbled into the room, bleeding, and the buttons on his shirt missing. To be frank, the little angel looked awful. He leaned heavily against the wall and seemed to be fighting to stay conscious. The men behind her stared ar him with evident concern. 

"What the hell happened to you?" Crowley asked. 

"Amara," Castiel answered simply. "She wanted to give you a message." The last part was said looking at Dean. 

"What message?" Castiel tore open his shredded shirt and revealed the writing on his chest. It was if it had been burned onto him, the flesh raw and inflamed. 

"Well, that's blunt," Crowley said. 

' **I AM COMING** ' it read. 

Dean went over to him and made a sympathetic hiss, examining the wound. He looked back at Rowena. She met his eyes with a sigh.

"What?" she asked. 

"Can you heal him? Like, with a spell or something?" Dean asked her. She rolled her eyes.

"Of course I can. But... which is more important to you? Shutting up Lucifer or fixing your boy toy?" Rowena replied. Dean narrowed his eyes at her. Castiel decided to pass out at that moment, so he didn't get a chance to answer. Dean managed to catch him before he faceplanted into the floor. 

"Mother. Fix the angel," Crowley commanded. 

"As you wish, love," she spat sarcastically. 

Rowena walked to him and placed her hands on his abused flesh. She chanted, red and blue magic swirling around her palms, and the glow seeped into his skin. The writing on his chest melted away to leave only faint pink marks. His eyes fluttered for a moment before he slipped back into unconsciousness. Dean set him gently on the empty chair, wrapping his extra flannel around him. 

"Is that satisfactory, Fergus?" Rowena asked with a mock curtsey. 

"Get back to work, Mother," he growled. 

She glared and walked stiffly to the table. Rowena picked up the knife again. Blood ran down her sliced palm into the bowl, sizzling as it hit the herbs. 

 

Dean heard the door to the room open, and he leapt up at sight of his younger brother. Sam gave him a tense smile, like he was worried about Dean's reaction. Well, to be fair, he was angry with him for going without him. So it wasn't an uncalled for response. But he was so glad Sam was safe. So, so glad. 

"Sammy!" Dean said. 

"Hi, Dean," Sam murmured. He sounded exhausted. 

"What were you thinking, man?" Dean demanded. He crushed his brother in a tight hug. Sam went still for a moment before he tentatively hugged back. 

"I'm sorry, De," Sam whispered against his neck. He sounded small and sad. 

"Just - just don't do it again, 'kay?" Dean said. 

"Okay," he murmured. 

"I hate to have to say that I need to interrupt your brotherly bonding moment. But I do. Sam, are you done? Like, completely?" Crowley asked. 

"Yes," Sam said softly. "I'm done."

"Great. Mother, are you almost ready?" Crowley demanded. 

"Yes, love. Just be quiet a moment, will you?" Rowena said.  

A few words of Latin and an exploding bowl later, the spell was complete. Rowena smiled and walked off to the corner of the room. Dean ignored her and held his brother at arm's length. Sam blinked at him tiredly. 

"Let's go home, huh, Sam? Whatcha say?" Dean said. Sam nodded. 

 

Lucifer laid Castiel down on the spare bed and locked the door. He pressed his thumb and index finger to the angel's forehead. Hmm, their dear Auntie really had done a number on the little fella. Well, Sam would probably get upset if he let Dean's pet angel die or get gravely injured. Also, what the hell happened to his Grace? It was like it was being held together by staples and Elmer's glue or something. 

He shook his head and let out a breath. Lucifer pushed some of his Grace into him, feeling it latch on and start to patch it back together. He forced some more in to continue when he left, and he snapped Castiel clean and into a pair of fuzzy cupcake pajamas. He clicked his tongue in satisfaction and tucked away his Grace again. 

Now... what to tell Dean? 

...Eh. It'd come to him eventually. For now... there was a stop he needed to make. 

A slow grin slid over his face. 

This was going to be so much fun. 


	4. Oh, Baby, I'm Back!

Crowley leaned his head back against the headrest. His eyes were closed as his mother's skilled fingers massaged his temples. 

"Mother. Why do you hate me?" he asked. 

"I hate you because when I look into your eyes, I see the woman I used to be. Before magic. Before the coven. When I was nothing but Rowena the tanner's daughter. A pale, scared little girl who smelled of filth and dye. I hate you because when you were born, your father said he loved me. Then, he went back to his grand wife in his grand house whilst I lay pathetic and half dead on a straw mat, my thighs slick with blood. I  _hate you_ -" 

She leaned her head close to his ear, breath hissing sharply. Rowena pulled back with an almost sad noise.

"-because if I didn't, I'd love you. But love, love is weakness. And I'll never be weak again," she finished.

Crowley blinked at the burning in his eyes, the ache where his heart was like a bottomless pit. The metal door suddenly clanged open, and they both looked at the entrance. Sam Winchester stood in the doorway wearing one of those cheap fake FBI suits with a striped red and grey tie. He stared at them blankly. 

"Sam," Crowley said. He was confused. Why was he back? 

Sam's lips slowly curled upwards into a grin, and he strode forward. He paused and tapped his chin. He tilted his head, still grinning widely. 

"Guess again." 

Crowley looked harder at Sam, and his eyes widened in shock. 

"No," he breathed. 

" _Lucifer,_ " Rowena gasped. The Devil spread his arms and grinned. 

"I'm back, baby!" 

"It can't be! You finished the spell!" Crowley said. 

"But if he was already in another vessel..." Rowena murmured. 

"Loophole!" Lucifer laughed. 

"Bloody hell," Crowley said. He stood up and tried to run.

Lucifer clicked his tongue in disapproval. He swept his hand to the side, and the demon flew into the wall with a crash. Crowley slid to the floor, a groan escaping him. Lucifer turned away from him and looked at Rowena. He smoothed down his tie.

"Rowena," he said, voice like silk. Rowena shuffled forward and bowed her head. 

"My liege," she simpered. 

"You know, what you've done for me, I'll never forget," Lucifer said. 

"It was my honor," she replied breathlessly. He nodded, unclipping the witch catcher from her neck. 

"Yes. It was." Lucifer set the collar on the table with a solid thunk. "You deserve... a reward." He tapped her nose and slid his thumb down to her lower lip. "A personal little token of my affection." She gasped when he tugged her lip, leaning closer to her face.

"Th-thank you," Rowena breathed. 

"Just. One teensy tiny little question. Can anyone else open up the Cage?" Lucifer asked. She looked up into his eyes.

"Just me." 

"Good," Lucifer purred. 

He laid his hands on her neck, and he rubbed his cheek against hers. Rowena gasped in surprise. A loud crack rang in his ears, and Crowley saw his mother fall limply to the floor. Her neck was bent at an unnatural angle. The Devil stared at her impassively for a moment and sighed. Lucifer turned to Crowley. He crossed his arms.

"Okay. Let's chat."

 

Castiel woke up with a startled gasp, sitting up straight on the bed. He panted, and his brows furrowed in confusion. His Grace felt... better. Better than it had been feeling for months if not years. A foreign icy slickness slid over his tattered Grace and touched him in places he didn't even realize he could feel. He shivered, and the iciness warmed slightly in response. Castiel blinked at the strange clothes he was wearing. 

They were comfortable. But odd. They were bright pink and covered in blue cupcakes. And very fuzzy. He shrugged mentally. Dean did many things he didn't understand. It didn't really matter, he supposed. Castiel noticed his feet were encased in a pair of thick wool socks. He wiggled his toes, delighted by the warmth, and sighed. He swung his legs off the bed and padded to the door. 

Dean was sitting at the kitchen table, head in his hands. Castiel sat beside him, and he looked up. Dean smiled at him, relief evident in his gaze. 

"Cas. You're okay," he said. 

"Yes. I am better now. Perhaps I just needed rest," Castiel pondered. Dean clapped him on the shoulder. 

"I'm glad, buddy. I'm glad. Do you want to talk about it?" Dean asked. 

"No. Not particularly," Castiel answered and shook his head. 

"Oh. Alright. I'm by here if you need me, though. Okay?" 

"Yes. Thank you for the offer, but I still must decline."

Dean nodded and slung an arm over the back of his chair. He pushed a bowl of cereal at him, which Castiel just looked at quizzically. 

"Go on. Eat. It'll give you some energy," Dean said. 

"Okay, Dean." He brought a spoonful of the cereal to his mouth and swallowed. His next bite was more enthusiastic. 


	5. Excuses

Lucifer broke off another piece of bread and tossed it into the water. A small white swan paddled forward and nibbled on the bread. He smiled, absently pushing a stray lock of hair behind his ear. He crumbled up the rest of the loaf and threw it into the lake. Lucifer hummed happily, and he turned away. He meandered over to a bench and sat down, crossing his leg over his knee. He leaned his head back, letting pale winter sunlight wash over his face. So beautiful. This loveliness of nature. This is what he'd missed. 

A foreign presence of angelicness thrummed at the edge of his perception, and he slid his eyes open lazily. An angel in a grey suit and an Asian face sat stiffly at the bench across from him. He stood up and strolled over to a sign that was labeled 'Nature Walk'. Lucifer walked up the path into the dense wood area, whistling "Stairway to Heaven" under his breath. The soft crunching of footsteps behind him was a dead giveaway that the little angel was following him. He smiled and looked up at the dark green leaves above. 

"Of all the parks in the world, I pick one with an angel in it," Lucifer said without turning. He heard a schlick-schlick of metal sliding on bare skin as the angel readjusted his grip on his blade. 

"When I saw you, I couldn't believe my eyes."

"Well, believe them. It's beautiful out here, isn't it?" Lucifer turned and watched the angel tense. He plucked at a low hanging bough. The young plant felt rubbery beneath his calloused fingers. "It's funny. The things you think you won't miss are what you end up missing the very, very most."

"Well, enjoy it while you can," the angel hissed. He lunged forward, blade raised high, but Lucifer startled him by stepping closer and holding up his hands. 

"Whoah, whoah. Easy there, brother. I come in peace."

"I am not your brother, Lucifer," the angel spat. 

"Well, I'm not looking for a fight." He stepped around, circling the younger with steady strides. "In fact, I am your only hope for beating the Darkness. I heard you kids had your big shot at the title and missed it." Lucifer laid his hand on his shoulder. The angel flinched violently. "You don't have to be afraid, brother. I am out of that awful, awful Cage, and I'm here to help." He walked a few steps away. He grinned. "Lucifer Ex-Machina."

"The Darkness cannot be destroyed, but you can," the angel said. He lunged once more. 

Lucifer sighed and snapped his fingers. A wet sensation spread over his back and the right side of his face. He reached back and swiped his fingers. He examined the dripping crimson with an impassive expression. He sucked his fingers clean and shrugged. 

"Ugh. That's the problem with you rank and file angels. No vision." 

Lucifer snapped Sam's clothes clean of blood and walked back up the path. He had to cut this mini vacation short it seemed.

 

"Hey, Cas. Have you seen Sam?" Dean asked. Castiel shook his head in the negative. 

"No. I have not," he replied. 

"Huh. That's odd. Where do you think he went? I haven't seen him for hours." 

"Perhaps he went to the store. I recall you mentioning us being out of eggs and bread," Castiel stated. 

"Maybe." 

 

Lucifer strode down the dark hall and flung open the heavy door. The demons milling about in the throne room jumped in surprise, their black eyes focusing in on him. He grinned, sharp and feral, and he walked in. 

"Sam Winchester!" one of them squawked.

He turned his head and smirked. His irises bled red, and the demons closest to him stepped back in fear. His grin widened. A female demon with curly black hair and dark skin fell to her knees and bowed her head in supplication. The others followed her lead after a tense moment. 

"My lord. You have returned to us!" the female said, pure reverance in her tone. Lucifer pet her head gently and smiled. 

"I have, little one. What is your name?" he asked softly. She peered up at him with awe.

"Simmons, my lord." 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Simmons. Tell me, who is in charge here?" Lucifer said. 

"Crowley was, sir, but we have not seen him in days," she answered. Simmons seemed slightly agitated by what she told him. He nodded.

"Worry not, sweetheart. That's being dealt with. Now, get up, all of you. We have much to do," Lucifer said. 

He reached down and pulled up Simmons by her hand, and she blinked in surprise. Lucifer smiled before releasing her wrist and going to the throne. He sank into it, crossing his ankles lazily and gazing at the demons before him with glowing red eyes. 

"What do you wish of us, my lord?" a grey haired Male demon asked, wringing his hands nervously. 

"First order of business, I want spells to be researched. Anything to do with dealing the Darkness is important. Also, any ancient weapons or artifacts as well as magical objects need to be brought to me. Simmons, I want you to find out more about possible Hands of God. Okay?" 

"Yes, sir," she said, saluting him. Lucifer grinned. 

"Good. Now... get to work!" 

He watched them scatter to go perform their tasks, and he let his eyes fade back to warm hazel. Lucifer heard a beeping from his pocket and pulled out the battered black flipphone. He flipped it open and hit the answer button. 

"Hi, Dean," he said in Sam's tired voice. He forced a yawn.

"Sam! Where the hell are you?" Dean demanded. Lucifer resisted the urge to snicker. Oh, the irony. 

"I'm at the park. Sorry. I fell asleep." 

"Just... can you come back now?"

"Sure, Dean. I'll be there soon. Bye," he murmured. Lucifer hung up with a click. 


End file.
